


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Cheesy titles, F/F, F/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, moving in, when will these two just make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13416903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Snark Noir requested, "Pre couple: Wynonna and feelings while helping Dolls renovate his house."





	Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> Cheesiest title, I know, but it was the first thing that came to mind when I was thinking of one and something about it just worked.

When Dolls asks for Wynonna’s help to move things into his new house- and for Waverly and Nicole’s to help him paint- everyone is kind of shocked.

    “Wait, what?” is the first thing to leave Wynonna’s mouth because it’s early in the morning and the caffeine from her large cup of coffee hasn’t entirely settled into her bloodstream yet. Okay, it’s eleven AM, but it’s Monday, so she needs a bit of time to really wake up, and the news that Dolls has an apartment is shocking enough on its own. Even Waverly looks taken aback, and she’s a morning person and had been at the station two hours earlier than Wynonna, with Nicole, of course.

Dolls explains how he just recently completed all the paperwork to rent out a house not too far from the center of town, how he had been in the process of looking for a home for about three months now but there wasn’t much real estate to choose from so it didn’t take him too long to find a place that worked for him. Wynonna listens and agrees to help him, unsure of how else to respond because there’s a weird feeling in her stomach and a weird feeling in her head and she doesn’t really know what to think.

    “You okay, Earp?” Dolls asks her a little while later when she’s zoned out, staring at the same completed file with an expressionless look on her face. She jumps involuntarily, just a little bit, when his hand brushes against her lower back. She hopes he doesn’t notice.

    “What? Yeah, I’m okay, I’m fine. What’s up?” she says, feigning awareness. She’d been thinking, confused and unnerved, and certainly not about revenants.

    “Thinking we could call it an early day,” he says. “Order some Thai and then tomorrow, if we’re free, we could take the day off and start moving the boxes? I have everything already packed-”

She cuts him off then, unable to help herself from blurting out the words. “Why didn’t you mention you were buying a house?” She’s feeling too strongly about this topic, too sensitive and she doesn’t know why. Okay, she knows why but isn’t really in the ideal situation to dive into feelings, especially since he’s clearly doing his own lone wolf thing right now, must be doing it in the future too because he has his own solo house now. Or at least she figures it’ll only be him residing there- what if he has a girlfriend he never mentioned? Someone like Eliza, a Black Badge member or FBI agent or hell, just a normal, regular Purgatory citizen? Wynonna doesn’t know which option she’d prefer, doesn’t know how she feels about the premise of him having a girlfriend at all, doesn’t know how she feels about any of this or why she even feels anything.

    “Renting,” Dolls corrects her. “I don’t have the money to be buying a house in Purgatory, even if they are ridiculously cheap compared to houses in the city.”

Wynonna wonders what he knows about houses in the city, about real estate and property value.  _ Maybe he’s one of those people who spends all his free time binge watching HGTV, _ she thinks, but there’s another sting in the back of her throat as she realizes she has no idea. She didn’t know he was house shopping, doesn’t know what cities he used to live in before he came to Purgatory or really anything besides his coffee order and what his voice sounds like when he’s upset or pissed off or disappointed.

That’s not entirely true- she knows what his lips feel like against her own, how warm his hands always are every time they brush against hers, how his laugh sounds when he’s laying beside her and the feeling of the stubble on his cheek against her shoulder. She knows the lengths he’d go to in order to ensure her and Waverly’s safety, to protect a baby that wasn’t even his, to stop Doc, a man he’s arguing with more often than he’s agreeing with, from doubting his worth and stepping away from a life of love.

But she doesn’t know enough. She doesn’t know what his family life is like, if he went to prom and if he had a date, if he likes winter more than summer- but she figures he must since he’s here in Purgatory. She doesn’t even know what he is- a dragon? a lizard?- or how he got to be the way he is.

She agrees to help him move and set up, not only out of curiosity for how much stuff he has and what he could possibly own but for  _ them,  _ because how can there be a “them” when she still feels like he’s a stranger to her?

 

Dolls drives Wynonna home from the station and when they reach the homestead there’s a lull, a pause where Wynonna wants desperately to just lean across the console and press her lips to his, because she knows how to do that and maybe that’s the best way to get to know him. 

But that’s not what she does with him, not what she  _ wants _ to do with him. And that’s a big thing, she knows, the fact that she has these feelings and doesn’t just want to fuck them away, decrease the emotional and increase the physical. Besides, she doesn’t think Dolls wants that either. That’s another part that’s scary. No one’s ever really wanted her the way that he does- or maybe, did. 

Waverly and Nicole had taken off earlier, opting out of the copious amounts of Thai food to make their own food at home. Waverly had been teaching Nicole how to make vegan desserts and it was nauseatingly cute to watch them try to recreate recipes they had found on YouTube, even if they did end up burning the food and setting off the fire alarms rather frequently- likely getting distracted by each other, but Wynonna doesn’t want to think of her sister’s sex life, even if it is with Haught and not Champ. 

The car idles in the driveway and Wynonna dreads getting out- partly due to the cold strike of air that’ll rush against her as soon as the door opens, also because she’s afraid of walking in on Waverly and Nicole in some precarious position, and finally, because it’s nice to be with Dolls. Heat blows out of the vents, warm and welcoming against her previously cold skin, the radio plays soft rock quietly, and she thinks she could sit back, close her eyes and maybe relax a little bit. She hasn’t done that in quite a while. A part of her thinks she’s maybe never really been relaxed in her life.

She gives Dolls a small smile and says, “see you tomorrow.”

 

He picks her up at noon on the dot, and she’s a couple minutes late out the door because she forgot to grab a scarf and to take a cup of hot chocolate out of the microwave. It had bubbled over, spilling on the floor and burning her hand when she picked it up because things can never go smoothly for her, and Nicole walks in the kitchen as she starts muttering swears under her breath and fumbling for a towel to clean the spill. 

    “Hey, you heading to Dolls’ place now?” Nicole asks casually, not at all surprised at the disheveled sight in front of her. She does hand her a damp washcloth, though.

    “Yep, the awkwardness will be ensuing any minute now,” Wynonna remarks as she cleans up the last of the spill. She grimaces once she realizes what she’s said aloud. “I mean, it’s fine, it’ll be fine, I just...”

Nicole gives her a knowing look when she stands up and heaves a breath, .

    “It’s a little weird,” Nicole says. “Dolls with a house? Not telling any of us? Definitely a surprise. But don’t be nervous, he-”

    “I’m not nervous,” Wynonna cuts her off, a little too emphatically to not be a lie. 

Just then, Waverly walks in and smiles as if she knew all the context of the conversation. Hell, she probably did- if childhood had taught Wynonna anything, it was that her sister had a tendency to be a very sneaky eavesdropper.

She gives her a look, as if to say, “if you know anything or if you know everything, just let me know so I can save my breath.”

Waverly just gives her a tight-lipped smile, like she doesn’t know how to respond. “We’ll be over soon, save us some donuts.”

    “How’d you know we were going to get donuts?” Wynonna asks, heading for the car.

Nicole snorts. “Well, let’s see, Wynonna and Dolls…” She pauses, and without turning around Wynonna can tell she’s mouthing something, probably something sexual that Wynonna’s better off not knowing they’re imagining. “When do you not get donuts?”

    “Yeah, yeah,” Wynonna replies absently, too preoccupied with the sight of Dolls’ SUV ahead, some cardboard boxes already visible on the backseat.

    “Hey, was that my hot chocolate?” Waverly calls from the doorway. Wynonna rolls her eyes as she gets in the car and takes a sip, wishing she had poured some whiskey in it.

 

Dolls has more stuff than Wynonna expected, but still not a lot. It’s mainly clothes, zip-up jackets and sweaters and mittens that all smell like him, a fact that makes Wynonna’s head spin and she isn’t quite sure why. It’s just the fact that he is _ himself,  _ that there’s a private version of him- likely many versions- that she doesn’t know, and something about that knowledge burns.

She isn’t quiet in the car ride. They talk as they always do, any anticipated awkwardness dissipated fairly early on, and even though it’s weird to hear Dolls talk about living in a house so candidly, it’s nice. Wynonna makes jokes about not going to yard sales with him in the future because she knows how addicting they can be and there isn’t any room in the homestead for more unnecessary stuffed animals; Waverly may have a certain affinity for cheap items and she doesn’t feel like having to rationalize Dolls about saving money.

    “Says the girl who blows all her money on shots at the own bar she could get them for free,” Dolls remarks, and she gently smacks his arm as he pulls into a driveway that she figures must be his. 

    “Hey, I need that bar to stay open, I gotta tip occasionally. Besides, I get a little frivolous with my money when I’m drunk,” she responds.

    “Remind me to spend more time with you when you’re drunk, then,” Dolls says.

Wynonna has a snarky response on the tip of her tongue, something flirty and slightly sexual that makes her heart rush just to think about because sure, she’s crushing but she gets adrenaline from being smart-mouthed, anyways. She loses it though because in front of her is Dolls’ house, real and big with a “sold” sign right near the doorway and she doesn’t really know how to feel about any of this.

    “You coming?” he calls to her and she realizes he’s already at the door, juggling boxes in his arms as he fights to unlock the door, key jingling.

Something about it is intimate- him with keys to a house, at the door, moving in- and she gulps, so loud he probably heard it. All she can do is blink, nod, grab boxes and follow him inside while her mind is a repetitive loop of  _ “what the hell, what the hell”  _ over and over again.

 

It’s just weird. That’s all she can think. She can hear Waverly and Nicole laughing, occasionally dropping what sounds like the paint bucket in the other room and she scolds them, reminding them that they’re supposed to be painting the walls, not the hardwood floors. Dolls doesn’t say anything to them about it, just thanks them for coming. 

It’s a bit of a role reversal, Wynonna expected him to be more concerned about the care of his new home but he’s relaxed and it just adds to the weirdness. It’s nice and feels normal, even though it isn’t. They unpack boxes, she folds his clothes and judges his choice of photographs- there are lots of mountains and canyons and city lights and she tells him they look like stock photos, even though he insists he took them all himself. It’s just strange for her to imagine him at all these places, likely with other people and maybe a whole different personality than she’s used to knowing.

    “When did you go to all these places?” she finally asks.

    “A while ago,” he says, and there’s a hint of sadness in his voice. “The Vegas ones were three, four years ago. I went with my sister and her fiance at the time, it was our little celebration before her wedding.”

Wynonna imagines him in Vegas, at his sister’s wedding- she didn’t even know he had a sister- in a suit, dancing and smiling and being with his family. Imagining him in a suit has always done things to her, sure- how could it not?- but she’s overcome with feeling like she doesn’t know anything about him at all, and therefore even less about their relationship.

_ Relationship.  _ It’s something she doesn’t think a lot about because she can’t, she doesn’t have the time, but it’s hard because it feels like there’s magnetism both pulling them together and apart. It’s not the way it’s ever been for her, not with anyone else, not even Doc, so how could she know what it’s like for him if she doesn’t even really know him?

Her thoughts must relay to her face because Dolls gives her a weird look, arches his eyebrows and takes a step closer, hand tentative on her wrist. He asks her if she’s okay and she hears it, recognizes his fingertips on her skin but it just stings more. The realization that he could have a girlfriend, a wife, maybe even children- although she doubts it- hits her and she just sighs, loud and suddenly exhausted.

    “I don’t know you,” Wynonna blurts out because she can’t handle it anymore, and if there’s anything she’s good at, it’s speaking her mind and being honest about shit that she can’t tolerate anymore.

    “I never knew about any of this. About your sister, how much you travel, about how many clocks you need,” she gestures to the room behind her, where four clocks were positioned in different places. She had made fun of him, ready to really accuse him of being a hoarder if he decided to hang up one more in the general vicinity. 

Dolls is still giving her that look. 

    “I didn’t even know you were moving!” Wynonna splutters when she doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know how to explain her frustration or maybe even jealousy, because he’s not hers, she doesn’t even know if she wants him to be hers- okay, yes she does- but he’s just her boss, but Black Badge is gone so he isn’t even technically her boss anymore but he sticks around anyways and it’s all just so confusing. 

His expression softens, eyes seeking hers and not breaking contact, not breaking the distance between them. 

    “What do you want to know?” he says and it’s quiet, intense and she’s taken aback for what feels like the hundredth time today. She’s starting to feel like she’s getting whiplash.

    “Everything,” she says, and it feels more intimate than she planned it to, but maybe that’s a good thing. She sits down on the white fabric of his couch and can’t help but notice it’s new. When did he get the chance to buy a couch?

He sits beside her and she sighs, remembering how hard communication has always been for them. But they’ve made it this far and that’s something. There’s things neither of them talk about and too many places they fall short, but maybe it’s worth opening up conversations that hurt in order for things to get better. Maybe they’ve already done so in the past and it’s just a slow process. Maybe it’s just how they are.

    “I knew I wasn’t leaving Purgatory anytime soon,” Dolls says after a long silence. “So I figured it was time to really settle.”

His voice is level and honest and his eyes are still on hers. Something about what he’s said hits Wynonna hard- he’s not leaving. He’s sticking around. With her, for her- he’s not going away.

    “With who?” she says, and the words are out before she can think it through and say something sweet rather than tinted with venom. “This is...a big house.”

His mouth turns up into the slightest of a smirk and she can see him trying to combat it and keep it down. “I don’t know. This was the best house I could find and it was ridiculously cheap.”

    “Yeah, well, it’s Purgatory,” she mutters, fidgeting with her rings in her lap. “There’s probably a dead body in the basement.”

He chuckles and it’s soft, genuine, so much so that it almost hurts her because God, she’s glad he’s stuck around. It makes her realize how hard it is to be alone- or, to not be with him because there’s no one else she really wants- and how much she wants not to be. There’s too much going on though, there always has been ever since she came back to Purgatory and ever since he came into her life. The constant struggle of breaking a curse, losing her family, never getting a moment of rest has gone on so long she’s only been able to think of a less hectic life in the moments before she goes to sleep and sometimes in her dreams- if the demons don’t follow her there. She’s never had a break, they’ve never had a break, and she doesn’t know if they will anytime soon, if ever. 

    “You okay?” Dolls asks again, this time with his hand brushing feather light against the side of her thigh. It’s a brief moment, casual and maybe even could be perceived as friendly except the fact that they are who they are and there’s so much history between them that every touch, every glance seems poignant, at least to her. Sometimes it’s so nonchalant, so simple, the way he’ll take her hands in his when she’s angry or upset or worked up in some way, rub his thumbs over the back of her hand until her breathing slows and she realizes he’s right. He’s always right.

If Wynonna is anything, she’s impulsive, but she’s been worn down so much- and it might partly be Dolls’ fault- through her own mistakes and own flaws. She tries to level herself as often as she can but sometimes she knows the parts of her that are risky are good, because her actions pay off. Right now, she wants to kiss him, overcome with the strange, surreal knowledge that she  _ could  _ right now, if he’d let her. (She thinks he would.) She could have kissed him already today if she chose to, could have been kissing him for days or weeks or months rather than keep dancing around what they are, what they’re not, what they could be.

    “I’m glad you’re sticking around,” she finally says. “We need you here.” 

She notices the irony in her words, mind flashing back to a night that seems like forever ago, but remembering the look in his eyes as he stood before her, perfect in a suit, putting his feelings on the line and saying them out loud.

    “I need you here,” she says after a moment’s reflective pause. She wonders if he’ll recognize the parallel in her speech, if he replays their hushed conversation from that night in his mind sometimes, just like she does far too often.

Waverly and Nicole’s laughs echo down the hallway but Wynonna barely notices because he nods, his eyes flickering to her lips a second later, barely perceptible but she sees it, and she gives in.

She moves slow, but not too slow because then she’ll overthink, and she’s already thinking far too much. She just needs to act.

It’s been awhile since she’s kissed him, bordering on five months now, and as soon as his lips touch hers she wonders how she’s survived that long. His kiss is slow and deep and warm, his hand sliding up her leg to her waist. Her fingers find the back of his neck, eager but relishing in every touch of her fingertips against his skin and when they break apart ever so slightly, she lets out a sigh. She meets his eyes, just for a second, before grinning and leaning back in. 

There’s more they can say with their mouths like this, she notices. It’s not easy for either of them to open up so deeply, and their lives haven’t been relenting either. This, though- this is easy, this says  _ a lot.  _ She can only imagine what it’d be like if they stripped the clothes away, locked the door-

A cleared throat stops her mind from getting any further. They break apart, breathless and alert, eyes darting to the doorway where Waverly and Nicole stand, paint splattered overalls and t shirts turned white and their faces plastered with shocked expressions.

    “Sorry for interrupting,” Nicole says, and her smirk clearly shows she isn’t at all. “We just wanted to let you know we finished two of the walls and were going to go out and get Chinese, if you guys want anything?”

    “Besides, we figured interrupting you would be payback,” Waverly says matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and leaning against Nicole’s side. She gives Wynonna a pointed look.

Wynonna just sighs. “Get me beef lo mein, no sprouts, extra beef. And a bottle of Jack to christen Dolls’ new house.”

Dolls doesn’t object. He just laughs, hand sliding around her waist as Waverly and Nicole head for the door, hand in hand and whispering, probably about them. Wynonna doesn’t care. A lot of questions she has about him and his past aren’t answered yet, but she knows she has time- to learn more, to kiss more, to see more embarrassing childhood photos. That fact alone is the most reassuring thing that’s happened to her in a whole. In a world of chaos and instability where nothing’s ever promised, he’s sticking around and staying close. In a house that’s not her own, she feels more content than she has in a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me feedback in the comments here or at my Tumblr under the same username.


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